


The Color of Nutmeg

by Rakshi



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 19:13:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rakshi/pseuds/Rakshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shirebunny F38: The first night in Moria, the Fellowship members do what they can to help Sam get over losing Bill.</p><p>With deepest thanks to Cathy, my best friend and editor and to Shirebound for her amazing Shirebunnies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Color of Nutmeg

Sam fussed anxiously over the two packs lying open in front of him. Squinting in the dim lamplight he carefully moved items between the two bags, grumbling under his breath as he did: "I mustn't let his pack get over heavy. He can't manage it. This Moria will be a hard trail and no mistake. He says he's recovered but that miserable snake beast scared him half blind and him already weary after Weathertop." Sighing, he hefted each pack to test the weight. Then, still unsatisfied, he removed a few more items from Frodo's bag. 

Pausing, he peered into his own pack then reached in to reshuffle the contents. Near the bottom his hand touched a hard, serrated surface and, recognizing the item at once, he pulled it out. For a long moment he stared at it sadly, then sat down hard on a nearby rock outcropping holding it in his hand. It was a small currycomb whose handle was wrapped in a cotton cloth.

Sam remembered the many times he would use this comb to brush Bill's nutmeg-colored coat, it being good to raise the accumulated road dust gathered there. The cotton cloth would then strike away the grime raised by the comb. Strider, who had a Ranger's knowledge of horses and their care, had given Sam a small farrier's knife to use in cleaning Bill's hooves and taught him how to use it properly. When he could, Sam would end Bill's grooming by sharing an apple or other treat. Both Hobbit and pony looked forward to this nightly ritual as a time of renewal that strengthened the kinship between them.

"It weren't never much of a grooming," Sam remembered. "I never had no clean cloth nor oil to polish his coat up proper afterward. But... Bill seemed to like it anyhow." He remembered how Bill would nicker and nuzzle against him as his coat was cleaned, and hot tears sprang into Sam's eyes. "I suppose I don't need this no more now. It'd make room in my pack if I left it," and in his mind the thought echoed: _The way we left him._

"He'll be all right, Sam," a soft voice murmured. "Gandalf told me he spoke words of guarding over Bill before sending him off. I feel sure he'll find his way to safety."

"Thank you kindly, Mr. Frodo," Sam said quietly, still staring down at the small items in his hand. "But no one can be sure it'll turn out that way, not even Mr. Gandalf, what with wolves lurking and goodness knows what else!"

"No," Frodo agreed, seating himself on the rock next to Sam and leaning lightly against his arm. "Nothing is certain in the world, especially in these dark times. But, Sam, believe me in this: Gandalf loves you dearly and would never have caused you this distress unless the need was desperate. He did his best for Bill, and I have faith that Gandalf's words have the power to protect him."

Sam turned gratefully to Frodo and bowed his head slightly to touch their foreheads together. "You're kind to fret over me, Mr. Frodo. And I suspect you're right that Bill will find his way. But to me that still doesn't make it right that we left him."

"It _wasn't_ right, Sam," a deeper voice acknowledged gravely.

The two Hobbits looked up as Aragorn appeared out of the gloom and moved to stand before them. "It was wrong to send Bill into danger and darkness alone. He was a good friend to us, stalwart and true. And he seemed wise for a beast. I remember how carefully he walked as he carried Frodo after Weathertop. He seemed to _know_ that Frodo was injured and that special care was needed so that he would not be jolted. With that wisdom he will be able to find his way and he will also understand why it was necessary for us to go on without him."

"Think of the places we've had to walk already, Sam," Frodo urged, linking his arm through Sam's. "It's only our first day, and already we've had to climb steep steps and creep along narrow ledges that a pony could _never_ have managed. He would have surely fallen and been killed. At least this way he has a chance to live on."

Aragorn patted Sam's shoulder. "Listen to Frodo, Sam and be at ease about your pony. I believe he'll survive."

"I know," Sam agreed miserably. "But he was my special charge, and I couldn't keep him safe." He glanced sideways at Frodo. "It's hard for me... thinking that I let him down." 

Frodo and Sam looked into each other's eyes as Aragorn moved silently away. "Sam," Frodo said softly. "You didn't let Bill down. You've never let me down. Not ever. And I know you never will."

Sam was silent, but his mind was filled with doubt. Caring for Frodo was all that mattered to Sam. It was his life. If he failed in _that_ charge... sighing, he let the thought go, afraid to follow it to its conclusion.

But Frodo heard the unspoken words and understood the uncertainty in Sam's eyes. "You chose to stay with me, Sam. You chose to be my guardian and companion. I'll always be grateful to you and to Bill for sacrificing his own safety so that you would be free to walk by my side. It was a brave and gallant thing to do." He drew Sam into a gentle embrace and felt him trembling as he pressed his face to Frodo's shoulder.

"I could never leave you, Mr. Frodo," Sam stammered, his voice halting. "You know my heart. You know leaving you'd be worse for me than Bill's death... or my own."

It was thus that Legolas found them a moment later. "Sam?" he called softly. 

"We're here, Legolas," Frodo called, easing Sam from his arms. "Here by this rock shelf."

The tall Elf strode to where they sat and held out an object. "Sam, do not let your heart be too troubled because we could not bring Bill to this dark place. I saw how lovingly you cared for him. And I felt how much he valued your kindness after all he suffered at the hands of Bill Ferny. I made this for you to honor your friendship." Sam slowly took a small, round item from the Elf's hand, gawking up at him in surprise. Then he held it under the light of the nearby lamp and gasped. 

"Why, it's a bracelet!"

"It's made of hair from Bill's mane and tail," Legolas explained. "It's a craft I learned as a child. The braid work seems delicate, but the bracelet is strong and enduring, much like Bill himself. Wear it in his memory."

Sam looked up at the Elf, his eyes glistening again. "I thank you from the heart for this fair gift, Mr. Legolas! I've never seen anything so fine! And to think you made it for me!" He bowed deeply.

"Here, Sam!" Frodo said, quickly moving to his side and taking the bracelet. "Put it on!" He slipped the bracelet over Sam's arm, and then held the lamp close to admire it. "Oh, it's beautiful!"

Sam stroked the delicate braid work. "'Tis the color of nutmeg, just like Bill's coat," he whispered, his voice filled with wonder. 

"It is indeed," Frodo agreed, as he too ran his finger over the bracelet. "The workmanship is lovely."

"My people have a way of communicating with beasts and other living things of the forest... trees and flowers," Legolas told them. "It is not talking as you might understand it... but more a way of feeling what they might tell us if they could."

The two Hobbits regarded him silently. 

"Bill loved you, Sam," Legolas told him. "And he believes in his great heart that you will meet again one day. And Sam?" Legolas leaned close to the Hobbit's ear and whispered softly: "I believe it too."

Sam blinked as the Elf slipped back into the shadows. Then his finger once again stroked the lovely brown-gold bracelet. He could almost feel Bill's coat beneath his hand again, and he smiled.

"Do you feel somewhat better about Bill now, my dearest Samwise?"

"I do, Mr. Frodo. I don't believe I'll ever feel completely right about leaving him, even if he does find a safe haven. But I feel better. And I know it had to be that way if I was to go with you." He raised his hand to Frodo's face and cradled it gently in his brown palm. "And I had to go with you, my beloved Frodo. My path lies by your side. All that I am belongs to you. Whatever might come to pass us on this journey, it will befall us together."

Frodo returned his caress. "Then I am content, my dearest Sam. I can face the darkness if I know you'll be there with me."

"And I will be, Mr. Frodo. I will be."


End file.
